Read Poem: NEVER SAY NEVER, by Paul Sargia


Hearing Rhythm


My name is Maria Teresa Pratico aka Ladysag77. I’m just a woman trying to walk this journey of life in truth. Being creative is my soul’s purpose and I achieve that through poetry, writing a blog, painting and dancing. My motto is “Triumphing over Trauma”. In 2011, I first became aware that I needed to reconnect with my soul. I started my journey of healing by 1st exploring my mental and emotional health, being diagnosed with CPTSD, which led to a more spiritual approach where I find myself today as a shamanic healer. There are many routes one can take that lead to the soul. No matter what, I never give up on myself. I can now say that I love myself and my spirit is finally free from cover. Unraveling the conditioning and programming continues to take introspection and will never cease. Life is beautiful once you decide to…

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Read Poem: MERAKI, by Dina Jael

The fixation of my hands
is upon the soil beneath me.
It calls me to nuture it,
thus I immerse in its moist nature.
Even the worms collaborate
in this messy downward journey,
softly lingering through my fingers.
Dirt and chaos everywhere,
as I penetrate the chosen spot.
The mycelium awaiting patiently
the arrival of the unaffected seed.
“Spread the news to the Mother Trees!” -they say
“this naive carapace has now entered deep.”
I comfort it with a blanket of mud,
hoping it feels tight and snug.
I carry myself away from the little one,
trusting the light will dry up its tears.
The days pass,
and soon a crackling sound
awakes my eyes.
Is it already time?
I rush to the garden,
encounter nothing but a sad sob.
What is it you need my tiny little dot?
“I need you to hold me, I’m breaking apart”.
A motherly sigh poures down from the clouds,
sparkling drops gently entering the ground.
As a melody of love lifts from a song,
a spirit of warmth prevails the dawn.
The short lived pain has gone astray,
the darkest night fleeted away.
The sun rises and sets.
Rooted secrets are blooming out the edge.
Stretching arms begin to unfold;
sprouting joy; neverending growth.
I stare at such greatness,
as the whistling wind
carries out loving scents of graces.

meraki poem - dina jael